Those AFL Cats make it three flags in five years

IT was meant to be all about the Pies. Clearly the best side all year, and boasting a Brownlow medalist to prove the point, Collingwood had waltzed into successive grand finals and were looking to stick it up the haters and doubters and show the black and white empire shall rule for another year. A Magpie premiership meant more fairy tales than there are in the Disney vault, however Mick Malthouse’s fable was going to be the most magical. After getting involved in footy sometime in the late Triassic Period, this was finally his last game before handing the keys over to Nathan Buckley next year. He figured now was as good a time as any to reveal that he WAS in fact his father.

Game day arrived and the Collingwood army were buzzing. Not even the sights and sounds of Meatloaf butchering his own material was going to dampen the spirit. This was THEIR day and destiny was about to be fulfilled. As they all stood for the national anthem, the penny dropped. ‘Oh yeah, they’re here too.’

They were of course were referring to the Cats, who had somehow managed to qualify on this first day in October. Shock soon turned into one eyed arrogance any Cyclops would be proud of. Game on. What was to follow, was three quarters of the most pulse quickening, high intensity, chip choking, brown trouser display of football ever. With a quarter to go in 2011, Mick gave his final address and asked his troops to dig deep (as well as reminding them that they might not make it out alive if they lose). Alas, the only thing that the Pies dug was their own graves as the Cats stormed home to a stunning victory, whilst putting a bit of a dampener on the empires afternoon. Miracle man Steve Johnson rubbed salt into the wound when he removed his buggered leg and not unlike a fine nine iron stroke, chipped home the final goal of the day from 70m out. Jimmy Bartel took home the medal for best looking bloke (or something like that) and soon after, Cameron Ling complete with a broken nose (although nobody noticed) hoisted the cup aloft with apprentice coach Chris Scott, 21 other hooped jumpers and 10 cubic metres of confetti. This day actually turned out to be about Geelong.

Congratulations Cats. Bad luck Pies. And farewell Mick.